Monthly Archives: October 2013

More help from my father

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We’ve all endured behavior from others we didn’t deserve. Some of us recognize this the moment it happens. Some of us for various reasons have a more difficult time recognizing when we are accepting disrespectful and, in some cases, cruel and abusive treatment from others.  For too many years I was in the latter group. Still am, at times, though rarely. The reason I almost always immediately recognize when I’m being badly treated is an easy-to-apply strategy that occurred to me nearly a dozen years ago.

Now, anyone who really knows me knows my father, Sanford Cleveland Kahrmann, holds the most sacred place in my heart and soul. He was and is the greatest gift my life has ever given me. Although he died at age 55 when I was 15  his continued daily presence  in my heart and soul has, on more than one occasion, helped me get through difficult times. Having at least one parent who loves or loved you completely simply because you are you can be a life saver. Sometimes literally. When I was held up and shot in the head in 1984 and found myself on the ground dying it was the very real presence of my father in my thoughts that gave me the strength to stand up and get the help I needed to save my life. So it didn’t surprise me when my father’s presence in my life resulted in a strategy that helped me disengage from someone years ago who was emotionally abusive. My personal struggles at the time along with some of the more wounding elements of my history were making it hard for me to realize I was letting this person get away with behavior no one should get away with. Then one day the following thought occurred to me: What would I do if I this person treating my father like this? Bingo! That was it! I knew (instantly) if I saw anyone treating my father like this I would have driven them off by any means necessary and protected my father with all my might. Then and there I realized I’d happened on a fool-proof way of recognizing when I was permitting myself to be treated in a way I didn’t deserve.

We all lose our cool at times and say things in the heat of anger, stress or pain that we later regret. If we apologize to each other and mean it, okay then. Wounds can heal. We’re only human after all and the words human and perfection have never been and never will be synonyms. But, if we don’t hold ourselves and each other accountable for our choices and sincerely apologize when we’ve hurt someone, the wounds won’t heal. They’ll simply fester.  If mutual respect is too much to ask for and a sincere apology is too much expect, what’s the point?

So, as you continue your journey in life, think of someone who is for you what my father is for me. Maybe this person is one of your parents, a sibling, your child, a grandparent, friend. It doesn’t matter as long as it is someone you love and cherish with all your heart. Once you’ve identified who this is bring them to mind next time you think you may be accepting behavior you don’t deserve. If you realize you would not allow this person to be treated the way you’re being treated, then the strategy has worked. What you do about it when you realize this varies. Sometimes, not always, the answer is to completely disengage from the person or persons wounding you. Sometimes making it clear you are disengaging from the behavior rather than the person or persons is the healthy choice. There is nothing unhealthy about letting someone know that while you value their presence in your life, there are certain things you will not accept. Some have given me more than one chance, so very often others deserve the same, if, and only if, they recognize and take responsibility for their behavior. If they don’t, better to disengage.

One last thing. The person you love with all your heart who you’d protect with all your might that you’ve chosen for this strategy? You deserve the same level of respect and protection you’d instinctively give them. No doubt they’d be the first to reassure you this is true.

Shedding the excess

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Getting older finds me methodically reviewing my involvements in life. I’m identifying situations, endeavors, and people I’ve mistakenly allowed to drain me of time and energy.  Getting older puts the unavoidable fact that none of us lives forever in sharp relief. So, I’ve said to me recently on more than one occasion,  why not shed everything and everyone I identify as being an unhealthy drain of time and energy.  Accurately identifying who and what falls into this category is is not always easy and not always painless.

The plus side to the shedding-the-excess endeavor is more time and energy becomes available. For example, I’d like to visit a friend of mine named Dave Hausman. Dave  owns Big Dave’s Bagels in North Conway, New Hampshire. I’ve known him for years and its been too damned long since I’ve seen him. I’ve never known anyone with more integrity, and, the man is brilliant-smart and deeply compassionate.  I miss him and his remarkable wife, Susan, who matches him on the integrity, smarts, and compassion fronts. There are other people and places that fall into the Dave category. My nephew, Joseph Kahrmann, his wife, Tara, and their children for instance. I respect no one anymore than I respect my nephew.

I’d like to go back to the places of my childhood and walk around my old neighborhoods. The hamlets, towns and villages. The streets of New York City, the place I was born, and where so much that makes me who I am today happened. Of course I will continue to write and read and advocate for those being oppressed.

I think the shedding-the-excess endeavor aligns me more with what Henry David Thoreau meant when he said, “Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve imagined.” Earlier this afternoon I was reading a long piece of writing my birth-mother Leona wrote to me right after we reunited on January 8, 1987. We were separated on October 9, 1953;  I was seven days old. Her emotionally courageous and loving and heartfelt missive ended with the words, “My son, my son, I’ve always loved you.”  And she did, always.

Not long before she died of liver cancer on December 19, 2001 I asked her if she had any advise for me in life. “Yes, Peter; be good to yourself.”

I know that freeing myself from all that makes living the life I’ve imagined more difficult is exactly what she’d want me to do.

I love my mother, born Leona Patricia Clark, my whole wide world.  I love my life my whole wide world too,  all the more because she gave it to me.